Chapter 18
I strode down the halls after training with Carmine’s army. Upholding my end of the bargain had started immediately, and I’d spent the last hour pummeling crimsons with my magus power. Carmine had made his presence known toward the end to remind me Tiers was tomorrow.
How kind of him.
“Mate-Intended, a moment.”
I glanced at the purple, then the blue next to her. “My designers. You’re late.”
They both curtsied and dropped their gazes to the floor.
The skin between Tewewh’s purple scales paled. “Our apologies, Mate-Intended. We attempted to find you several times yesterday.”
“You wouldn’t have found me.” I held out my hand. “Are they ready?”
“Y-yes,” said Tewewh, passing a folder over.
I kept walking and glanced back when they didn’t follow. “Follow me.”
I led them to one of the smaller lounges in Carmine’s personal chambers. I gestured to the table, then sat in the largest chair.
My frown deepened as I flicked through the first ten pages. The designs were beautiful, and crimson, and not at all what I’d asked for.
I leaned back in the chair and gazed at them. “What orders did the king give you after we spoke?”
“Orders?” squeaked Tewewh.
I imagined that Gratia had told Carmine, and then Carmine ordered Tewewh and Yiti to design dresses to his liking.
“These are not what I asked for. What orders did he give you?”
“W-we hoped y-you would like them. We have no orders from the king, Mate-Intended,” Tewewh stared at the table.
Lie. But an understandable one. They were caught between the future queen and the demon king. That was a tricky one to navigate.
Unfortunately, they’d chosen the losing side.
Yiti rose and rounded the table to collect the book. Her stumps didn’t make the task easy, and the book tumbled to the floor, opening to the pages at the back.
My lips curved, and I swooped to pick up the book.
“I am clumsy, Mate-Intended,” Yiti spoke for the first time. Her voice was not at all timid.
I snorted and glanced up at her. “Sure you are.”
Suddenly I had an idea of how she might have lost both hands.
Yiti resumed her seat beside the frozen Tewewh, and I flicked through the designs at the back of the book that someone had cut out and slotted there. Just by accident.
The dresses were magnificent. Unique. They contained the more complicated fashions of Earth and the wholesome flow of my magus nature, too, and also some more rudimentary and sexy components of demonkind.
The fabrics appeared heavier than demons tended toward.
There was an edge of battle to the dresses.
I could conceal weapons, and my movement would always be free.
The designs were more concealing than demonwear, which was no doubt why Carmine had them redesigned.
But the designs were sexy too. Some had plunging necklines, and others exposed my back or thighs or stomach.
Not that I wished to be sexy for anyone other than myself.
“Exquisite,” I murmured. “These are a work of art, and I want to commend you on your originality most of all.”
I looked up at Yiti. “So you have designed these.” Drawing with her magic, presumedly. I shifted my focus Tewewh. “And you will make them.”
Defeat lingered in the purple’s gaze, but she said nothing to save her life.
Yiti said, “If she creates them, the king will kill her.”
I nodded. “Likely.”
Carmine would kill her to punish me the next time I disobeyed. Well, he’d send someone else to do the job.
“There is another who could create them. The king’s personal tailor,” said Yiti.
Tewewh gasped. “Yiti, no.”
The blue-scaled demon met my gaze. “The king’s orders are only known to us. You can still have these dresses, but whoever makes them will die.”
I tilted my head. “You would condemn another tailor so easily?”
“I would condemn a tailor who maims anyone who might possess more talent than he.” She held up her stumps. “I have not been the only one, but I am one of the few who remained in the fortress.”
She’d remained to one day seek her revenge. There was a lot to like about this demon. Her defiance was highly enjoyable.
I clapped my hands. “Then that’s settled. You can take my letter to…”
“The head tailor,” she replied, then spat out, “Hunf.”
“To Hunf,” I said pleasantly.
Tewewh looked on in shock as Yiti passed me a pen. I sliced out a page of the book to scrawl upon.
After jotting my orders, I murmured, “Tewewh, you will need to appear sufficiently resentful and ashamed that I have not selected you for this honor.”
She whispered, “Yes, Mate-Intended.”
I folded the note, then passed it to her. “Are you both prepared for battle?”
Yiti grinned, and not in a kind way. “We are. Thank you, Mate-Intended.”
“Thank you for being so clumsy. I’ve let Hunf know that I’ll require these dresses in two days’ time. That should keep him too busy to report to Carmine, especially as the dresses are a surprise for him.”
Screw you, Carmine. I’m getting my dresses. And I’d hide the garments, so he couldn’t destroy them. Fifteen dresses would last me a while if I was scandalous enough to wear them twice. Gasp. Carmine’s mother would have a fit.
My lips curved.
The two demons stood to leave, and I said, “There is also the matter of my joining gown.”
Was that even a thing? Or was I expected to wear a loincloth down the aisle?
Tewewh stared. “You and the king will complete the intention ritual? I did not know.”
I expected that no one but Carmine and I knew. He’d likely announce it at dinner.
I grinned—and not in the kind way. Yiti and I had something in common.
“Did you not?” I replied. “We are. Not for a week or so. Tell everyone you meet. The realm should know.”
Ah, defiance. Royals would be the last to learn the news, and if I was lucky, then Carmine’s mother would be last of all.
“What ideas do you have for your gown, Mate-Intended?” Yiti used her smoke to pull the book across the table, then flip to a blank page. She awaited my response, her blue magic poised to draw.
I pursed my lips. “A large skirt. Very large. No one will be able to stand too close.”
I hummed. “High neckline. Sleeves to the wrist. And a veil. Yes, definitely a veil. The dress and any underwear you make, should be very, very difficult to get into.”
Yiti nodded, while Tewewh’s eyes were as big as saucers.
“Who will make the dress?” Tewewh managed to ask.
“I am certain the topic will come up with Carmine in, oh, two days’ time. I’ll let you know.”
The designers left, and I plucked my tunic off my skin. Cold sweat, my favorite. Time for one of the three baths I’d have today.
I made it to the hall, where Gratia intercepted me.
“We aren’t meeting for another hour.” I had queen training again. This time in the form of a morning tea with powerful crimson women, one of them being Tygrio’s mother. It wasn’t enough that the king had killed her son. Now she had to act as if nothing had happened. If she didn’t succeed?
Then she’d join Tygrio.
After this delightful social affair, I was expected in the war rooms. Quite the schedule I kept these days. I hoped there would still be time to rake dirt with friends. Perhaps that was how demons took the first step in friendship. Want to rake dirt with me?
Gratia followed me. “You stink.”
“Yes, and I would like that to change.” I glanced back. “Do you ever train?”
She shrugged. “Not in a long time.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to run a fortress for my brother’s Mate-Intended, who ran off.”
Me. She meant me. I faced her. “I really do want to shower. What do you want?”
Gratia fixed me with a searching look. “I am starting to believe that you might almost be what my brother and this realm require. You are clearly here for your own ends, and yet that is all a demon can ever be expected to do. So if my brother can convince you he is worthy, then you will be queen, and a terrific one. If you can be convinced of that cause also. Which I believe you can.”
I cocked a brow. “Should we… rake dirt now?”
“What? No.” Gratia frowned, then exhaled. “I am about to tell you something that I shouldn’t.”
Oh. “Like Tygrio.”
“He did?”
“Right before he was killed.”
She shook her head. “Fool that he was.”
That sparked my interest. “Was he always a fool?”
“More and more in recent years.”
More and more since meeting my sister in the dungeon. “He told me that my twin sister is locked in the dungeon.”
Gratia blinked. “What?”
Her shock was genuine. Huh, unexpected. “Carmine locked her in there five years ago and never told me.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” she blurted.
I doubted she was referring to the “never told me” part. “I assure you, he did. Despite all his own experiences there.”
Gratia’s mouth fell ajar. “Brother. I wouldn’t have thought him capable of it. Have you apologized to him?”
I sighed. “No, Gratia. I’m not going to apologize to him.”
“But you allowed it to happen. You betrayed your mating by failing to suspect him.”
I rubbed my temples. Demons. Seriously. Her shock was centered on Carmine surprising her, and not at all by his actual depraved act.
Still, I’d expected that she would know everything. Her ignorance was almost making me like her, even if she believed I was to blame. “I don’t see it the same. This knowledge has consolidated everything I felt about Carmine since learning that he murdered my family.”
“If someone murdered my family, I would stop at nothing to end them,” she said, and her gaze was very intent on me.
I smiled. “But it would be your fault they died, right?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “And my duty to fix.”
I answered, “I will hardly risk my sister now I know she lives. But I do want a shower, so what do you want to tell me that you shouldn’t?”
“It’s worth two of the three favors left.”
I grunted. “I’d prefer not to know.”
I turned to leave.
“You really want to know this!” She cursed. “One of my favors will be struck off, and I want to know more about my mate.”
Consider me curious. “Deal. Spill.” At her blank look, I said, “Tell me.”
Gratia checked the hall, then leaned closer. “I heard from my mother this morning. She sounded different. Gleeful.”
My stomach dropped, but I rolled my eyes. “You wished to tell me that your mother sounded excited this morning. Don’t waste my time.”
She hissed, “She only sounds like that when she’s close to her target.”
To grandfather. Except Grandfather wasn’t the person I cared about her finding. Not that I wanted him dead. But my fear for Adeuto overshadowed any fear I held for others, even my twin. “I see. What was her location?”
“Outer realm. She’s staying with some red wardens out there.”
I knew of them. Their housing was two days’ walk from our shack.
I had time. Carmine’s mother could hardly portal at random to find the shack, and Grandfather would have covered his tracks well.
He never took a direct route back. She might have a general idea that we were hiding in the desert, but searching for our hideaway would take time.
More than two days certainly. Maybe even until the end of Tiers. “Consider me warned.”
Gratia extended her hands. “Your spilling turn.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Like mostly everything you say,” she retorted.
I chuckled, then took her hands. My divination magic swept up her arms, and my voice floated between us. “Ask one question.”
“Where is he?”
I sank into my power, and the answer rose.
Which was interesting in itself because seeing the future was not possible for any magus—to my knowledge—so the answer really was rising from Gratia.
Which meant the answer was already here inside her.
In her soul or heart or mind. That seemed to suggest mates were preordained.
Programmed in. All demons held the destiny of their eventual mate within them from birth.
I studied the answer to her question and grimaced. “The answer is a curse and a blessing. You may not wish to know.”
If I didn’t tell her, then Gratia may go a lifetime without meeting him. But then, she wouldn’t now because I had told her of his existence. Also that they would meet soon. My interference was clearly preordained too.
Carmine’s sister laughed without humor. “How could my mate be a curse and a blessing?”
Had Gratia met her brother? He was Exhibit A of the Jekyll and Hyde display. “I can only feel that it is. I cannot see whether this mating will bring you more happiness than remaining alone. Certainly there is more turmoil and heartache at the start of your mating than happiness.”
Her chest rose and fell, and Gratia had left her princess mask behind for possibly the first time since I’d met her.
“Why?” she breathed.
“You bargained for one question. Make your choice.”
Gratia searched my expression, but she wouldn’t find anything there.
She said, “I am meant to know him and mate with him. I feel this without knowing how or why. I must meet him. Where is he?”
So be it. “He is a blacksmith in the middle realm. Not far from the west passageway.”
She dropped my hands. “He’s a blacksmith? By choice?”
Gratia wished to know if a crimson or red had willingly chosen to become a blacksmith. As if that would ever be a thing. “He became a blacksmith because he had to. Because his father was a blacksmith, and his grandfather too.”
Because he was a purple, and definitely not a suitable match for a crimson princess.
I was about to become mother-in-law’s favorite.